


The Homecoming

by suitesamba



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: F/M, None - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-25
Updated: 2012-10-25
Packaged: 2017-11-17 00:21:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/545455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suitesamba/pseuds/suitesamba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Another expansion of the Endor celebration and what Luke shared <br/>with Leia when he returned to the Ewok village after putting his father to rest.</p>
<p>Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by <br/>Lucasfilm, Ltd. No money is being made and no infringement is intended.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

> Another Star Wars fanfic I wrote at least ten years ago, originally published on fanfix under the name of Stella Star. Cheesy, bad dialogue but with a decent ending at least.

The drums, the chanting, the fires continued. Long into the night, the fighter ships of the Rebellion streaked across the upper atmosphere of the forest moon of Endor, shouting their joy to the celebrants gathered below on the surface. The main stage of the victory party was the heart of the Ewok village, and it was to the lowest of the village platforms that the crowds converged. Admirals, generals, pilots, ground troops, support staff, droids and Ewoks danced and sang and drank while the remains of the second Death Star whirled lifelessly in space.

Hours had passed since the Millennium Falcon had taken the Death Star to an early grave, and shuttles and fighters were still finding their way to the former Imperial docking platforms. Han checked his chrono frequently, stared at the sky, frowned. Low rumbles and grumbles from Chewbacca accompanied his nervous watch. The steady supply of local grog eventually dimmed his impatience, but near him, Leia became more restless as the night wore on.

"He'll be here," said Han softly into her ear as he passed behind her with a full mug of grog. The stuff tasted like rancor piss, but it packed the kind of wallop he needed tonight. Stars but this one had been close . . . He frowned again, remembering just how close they had come to failing this time.

"Bet he gets here before Lando," she said teasingly, sensing his darkening mood.

"Hey, I've talked to a dozen guys who saw Lando bring the Falcon out of that thing before it blew. He'll be here, all right. Probably has it parked out of sight polishing up the exterior chrome."

She laughed. "More likely tying down loose parts with space tape," she commented.

Han winked at her and turned in time to be embraced by a drunken Ewok, who tugged his hand and pulled him over to the dancing area.

"What? Don't you guys ever get tired of dancing?" Han complained.

He raised his eyebrows at Leia, shrugging. Leia smiled, made a move to follow, but as she turned she caught sight of Lando's now familiar form eagerly pushing through the crowd toward the platform. The exhaustion he surely felt was hidden by the gleam in his eye.

"Leia!" he exclaimed as he reached her and gave her a hug worth waiting for. "We did it!"

"From what I hear, YOU did it," she replied. "Quick, before Han sees you, how did the Falcon make out?"

"She's safe and sound and only a little singed, but don't tell the Cap . . . Han!"

He released Leia's arm and swooped over to Han, who had shaken his Ewok dance partner, and embraced him like a long-lost brother. Han pretended to fight for air, then managed to deliver Lando over to Chewbacca for a real back-breaker of a hug.

The two began to excitedly relive the parts of the battle each had missed, as one had done his part on the ground and the other in the sky. The conversation read like an unintelligible and disjointed string of cut off phrases and exclamations, but neither seemed to notice.

". . . and that thing was operational! Started picking off ships . . ."

". . . Chewie pops his head out of an Imperial walker . . ."

". . . managed to take out one Star Destroyer . . ."

". . . picked off two storm troopers with a wounded arm . . ."

Leia left them alone, though their boyish excitement was infectious. She looked into the crowd again, searching faces for the one she most wanted to see. Though she'd been searching for him for hours, she was nonetheless surprised when she saw him. He was on the path that led to the camp from the shuttle platforms, dressed in the same black flight suit she'd last seen him in. She watched as he made his way through the crowd, and though he embraced the friends and comrades who greeted him, there was a resolute sadness about him she did not miss. As he neared the platform, he looked around, searching the dignitaries gathered there, and when his eyes met Leia's a broad smile lit his tired face. He pushed through the crowd and climbed up onto the platform.

“Leia!" He embraced her, and she clung to him. She buried her head in his shoulder, smelled sweat and dust and fire. She let him go to look into his face and eyes and she knew at once that he was not well. But before she could voice her concern, Han appeared and gave his friend a hug.

"Good to see you in one piece, Luke!" he said with a broad grin.

Luke smiled back. "You too, Han," he said.

Han grinned at him, turned to look at Leia, then back at Luke.

"I was sick when that thing blew," he said, with his arm still draped over Luke's shoulder. "I was patching up Leia's arm . . ." Luke looked quickly at Leia, who shook her head as if to say "it's nothing" ". . . when we saw it. I told her that you were all right." He paused, then smiled broadly again. "But she knew. She said she could feel it." He lowered his voice and leaned in closer, winking at Luke. "Guess that force thing runs in the family." 

Luke smiled, glad that Leia had told Han, and glad too that Han wasn't making a big deal out of it.

"I didn't tell him everything," said Leia as Han once again became the reluctant dance partner of a drunken Ewok. She slipped an arm around Luke's waist, reached a hand up to brush sweaty hair from his eyes, and inwardly winced at the bruises and abrasions on his face. _What happened to you up there?_ she thought, and was startled to hear . . . no, it was more like _feel_ . . . his voice in her mind. _Later, I'll tell you later._ Her eyes widened and he laughed and hugged her again. She lost him a moment later to Lando, who grabbed him in a bear hug and belted out "I thought you were a goner, Luke!" The crowd closed in around them, and it was a few minutes before she found her brother again, this time staring off over a railing into the blackness of the forest, smiling to himself. When she touched his arm, he turned toward her, and a strange sense of peace seemed to fill her for a moment. They walked away, arm in arm, and rejoined the party. But even as he danced in a circle with a group of young Ewoks and two Calimarian navigators, even as he smiled at C3P0's enthusiastic retelling of the ground battle, Leia saw that only the outer shell of her brother was functioning. When Threepio finished his embellished story, she maneuvered around a conga line of young Ewoks, meaning to ask Luke to walk her back to the Falcon so they could talk in private. By the time she reached her brother, he was already engaged in conversation with Admiral Ackbar, the Mon Calimari leader who had commanded the final battle to destroy the Death Star. Luke looked serious, almost worried, and she walked toward him hoping to interrupt the conversation.

"I've come to steal Luke away," she said lightly, putting her hand on her brother's arm and smiling at the Admiral.

"Oh, Leia. Fine, fine. Just have him back in the morning for the debriefing." He turned to Luke again. "That will do, Skywalker. O nine hundred, then. On my command ship."

As he ambled away, Leia looked up at Luke.

"Debriefing?" she asked. "What's he talking about?"

Luke swallowed, struggling visibly to keep his composure.

"Seems like the pilots are already talking," he said mildly, trying unsuccessfully to make light of the issue. "Someone's told the Admiral that I was the last one off of the Death Star. They know I turned myself in to Vader." He sighed. "Seems our leaders are eager to prove that the Emperor and Vader are really dead. They'd like me to share what I know."

"Why don't you walk me back to the Falcon?" asked Leia, taking his arm. "IF I can get Lando to tell me where he left it!"

"I can get you there," said Luke with a chuckle. "It's in a clearing about a kilometer north of here, with a mishmash of fighter ships and shuttles. There aren't too many easy places to land around here, and I put my shuttle down in the same clearing."

"So you made it out in a shuttle," said Leia, as they started down a path that would eventually take them to the ships.

"A pretty shaky one," said Luke. "Rotten stabilizers, faulty nav computer. I think I'll leave it here and let the Ewok children play on it." His voice was light, joking, but Leia guessed there were other reasons he didn't want to board that shuttle again.

"Not much to choose from, then?" she asked, trying to keep her tone. _As if what he went through up there was simple conversation material._

He thought of those desperate moments in the shuttle bay, half-dragging his father, still hoping he would be able to save him.

"The way I hear it," continued Leia. "Only Wedge and Lando made it out after you. How did everyone know it was you in that shuttle? Were your Skywalker piloting skills that obvious?" There was an implicit question in her voice he heard and understood. Mi> What happened up there, Luke? Tell me.

"I was flying an Imperial shuttle into a battle," said Luke, by way of explanation. "I had to hail the fleet or risk becoming space dust."

"Why didn't you dock on one of our frigates and take a safe shuttle down?"

Luke slowed his pace. Leia was perceptive. "You really want to know?"

She lifted up her head to meet his eyes for a long moment. "Yes, I really want to know."

They had reached the clearing now, and Leia saw a handful of ragtag ships with the queen of them all, the Millennium Falcon, holding court in the center. There was movement here and there, and the hum of a shuttle being readied for flight by a crew that probably shouldn't be anywhere near the controls, considering the amount of Ewok brew they'd consumed. The brother and sister boarded the familiar old ship, closed the hatch behind them and made their way to the cockpit. Luke settled down in Han's chair, wincing as his flesh pressed against the padded back. Leia settled into Chewie's over-sized seat. The smell no longer bothered her; in fact, she hardly noticed it now except for the vague, comforting feeling it gave her. A feeling of being home, similar to the one she had experienced back in the village wrapped up in her brother's arms. Strange how home was becoming more of a feeling to her than a place.

"Why don't you start at the beginning?" said Leia. She sat sideways in the roomy chair with her knees drawn up under her chin.

The beginning? Where had it begun? When? When he turned himself in to Vader the night before? On Bespin when he faced his father for the first time? On Degobah when he heard Han's cries of pain as he was being tortured on Bespin? On Yavin 4? When he walked into Leia's cell on the first Death Star? In Ben's house on Tattooine as he held his father's light saber for the first time? Or was the beginning so much earlier . . . when Vader began his turn to the dark side, probably even before he and Leia were born?

"Luke?" Leia's voice startled him and he turned to look at her. She looked small in Chewie's chair, small and somehow . . . scared.

"I was trying to figure out where to begin," he said with half a smile.

"Well, start from when you left. . . when you left me after you totally rewrote everything I knew and believed about myself." She meant it to sound funny, but it didn't even come close. He looked at her a long moment, then began his story.

The words were hesitant at first, but soon they poured out, and his story painted visions in her mind. Visions predominated by colors-the black of Vader's cape, the red of the Imperial Guards, the blue of the Emperor's energy blasts, the white of the Death Star's explosion, the orange of the funeral pyre. She could feel him fade as he spoke, as the fire of his emotional turmoil drained from him. And though she felt no grief for this father she had never known and could never love, she felt Luke's pain almost as her own. She reached out and took Luke's hand, and as she touched him, as the mental bond cemented into something more, the words he spoke became nothing more than a backdrop to the feelings. Instead of hearing him, she _felt_ him. Lost within him, she found a piece of herself she hadn't known was missing. All that she hadn't known about herself was contained right here, in this man and in this moment. All she had believed was both confirmed and called to doubt. She _was_ more than a diplomat, more than a princess, more than a rebel. She was part of something too big to comprehend, too heavy to hold, to bright to look at. Part of the force he spoke of, part of the fight he had won, part of the hand he had lost.

Later, when the music had stopped, the reveling had ceased, she lay against Han on a soft pile of skins in an Ewok hut in one of the upper levels of the tree canopy. Hours ago, Luke had hitched a ride with the first sober crew who had fired up a shuttle. She had hugged him goodbye and waved from the ground as the shuttle rose above the treetops. As it lifted, she reached for him in that plane she was yet unfamiliar with. She sent him tendrils of hope and felt his surprise at her touch, his return gift of a mental caress that blanketed her and kept away the cold as she turned and made her way back to the village.

Han stirred beside her and she nestled more closely against him. As his arm instinctively encircled her, she opened her eyes to the faint pink light of dawn and saw stars still faint in the morning sky. Princess Leia Organa closed her eyes, feeling more at home in the Ewok tree house, nestled beneath the rough chin of Han Solo, than in the palaces of Alderaan. From the dust of Alderaan, the shards of the Death Star, the ashes of Vader himself, a new day had begun.


End file.
